


I'm Sick of Your Shit

by shipfiction



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bully!Louis, Comeplay, Homophobic Language, M/M, Unrequited Love, bottom!Zayn, fluffy sex, i'm really really bad with titles i'm so sorry, top!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:36:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipfiction/pseuds/shipfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn came out two years ago, and Louis still bullies him about it. Makeup sex ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sick of Your Shit

Zayn tries to ignore Louis’ glare when he enters his Music class, he really does, but Louis only makes it harder when he sticks his foot out to trip the older boy. Zayn stumbles, barely catching himself before sitting down in his seat directly in front of the tanned boy with a heavy sigh.

 

“Hey, pretty boy.” Louis says, leaning forward, his soft breath irritating the warm skin on Zayn’s neck. Zayn nods, not bothering to acknowledge Louis’ games today, all of his focus on his teacher as the late bell rings, signaling Ms. H to begin her lesson.

 

“How’re you guys doing?” Ms. H asks, barely waiting for a reply before continuing. “Alright, today we’re going to begin our projects, where I will give you each a song to remix. Your decisions on how you want to do that, but for god’s sake, be creative. If I hear one more acoustic version of a song, I’m going to rip my hair out.” There’s scattered chuckles, and Ms. H walks over to her desk, picking up one of two top hats.

 

“I think we’ll pick our songs first, yeah? You can each pick a song, and when you get partnered up you can pick whichever song suits you best. Whichever song you aren’t going to work with, put it back in my hat so the next class has a nice selection, okay?” Random nods. Ms. H walks over one side of the classroom, stopping in front of Harry’s chair. Harry smiles up at his teacher before shoving his hand in, picking out a thin paper. “Go on, what’d you get?” Harry groans.

 

“Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepson.” Harry drawls, his deep voice filling up the packed room. “Can I please pick another o—“

 

“No changes!” Ms. H says, and the blonde next to him, Niall, laughs. Before Zayn knows it, the lady is standing right in front of him. Zayn blinks a few times, and Ms. H shakes the hat in front of his face. “Well?” Zayn sighs and dips his hand in the hat, pulling out a piece of paper.

 

“Roger Rabbit by Sleeping With Sirens.” Zayn mumbles, and Ms. H nods in approval.

 

“Lucky one.” The woman moves on, soon ending up in front of Louis. Louis shoves his hand in without hesitation, pulling out a paper immediately.

 

“Thought Of You by Justin Bieber.” Louis says, and Harry laughs across the room. “Shut up, Harry.” When everyone’s picked a song, Ms. H walks back to the front of the classroom, setting down the hat in her hand and picking up the other.

 

“You’re going to work with partners, which you will pick now. Your project’s life is in the confinement of my magic hat, wish you luck.” Zayn zones out, staring at a cheesy music related poster across the classroom, jumping a little bit when Ms. H comes into his line of vision. “Your turn.” Zayn puts his hand in the hat, moving it around a little bit, hoping and praying to get Liam. Zayn glances to his left, and Liam flashes his paper, which says ‘Niall Horan’, and the Bradford-made boy has to suppress a groan. When he takes his hand out, he carefully unfolds the paper.

 

“No. No, no, no, no.” Zayn whispers, reading the messily written handwriting. “L-Louis Tomlinson.” Zayn says out loud, looking up at Ms. H with what he hopes are hopeful eyes. “Please let me change, please—“

 

“No changes! How many times must I say this?” She steps around Zayn’s chair, moving on to the row behind the boy. When she’s far enough away, Louis leans forward, whispering in Zayn’s ear. Zayn tries not to shudder in disgust.

 

“So, mine or yours, fairy?”

 

**

 

Zayn does a once-over in the mirror, satisfied with his appearance. Not like it really matters, it’s just Louis coming over. It’s totally not like Zayn’s nervous or anything, it’s not like he isn’t fucking terrified. Zayn lets himself groan, pressing the heel of his palms in his eyes, taking a deep breath.

 

Zayn has no idea why Louis bullies him, but he just takes it. He takes every derogatory term, he just ignores it, he just takes every kick, every punch, because that’s what he’s meant to do, right? Right. The doorbell rings. “Shit!” Zayn curses, taking one last moment of peace before opening his door and walking down the hallway towards his family’s apartment front door. “I got it!” He shouts, unlocking the door and pulling it open to reveal Louis himself, standing on his doorstep in sweats and a hoodie, a beanie pulled over his head, his caramel fringe peeking out, resting atop his tanned forehead. Zayn thinks Louis could actually be attractive, if he wasn’t such an asshole. The younger of the two forces him to step aside and let the other in the room, calling over his shoulder to his mum. “We’ll be in my room!” Zayn closes the door and locks it again, walking back towards his room without a second glance back. Louis follows, looking around Zayn’s household, smiling at the random pictures on the wall, feeling welcome in this warm space, even though he knows he shouldn’t be. When Louis walks inside of Zayn’s room, Zayn hesitantly closes the door behind them both, sitting on the floor. Louis follows suit, trying not to let his eyes roam over Zayn’s chest, the way his tight white shirt shows off a little too much, or how his black jeans ride low, or how—

 

“Louis.” Zayn says, and Louis’ eyes snap up to Zayn’s own, a fierce blush coloring Louis’ face. Zayn’s eyes are expectant, even though Louis doesn’t know why. The older boy makes a noise, and Zayn repeats himself. “Which song do you want to do? I really don’t care, I just want to get this over with.”

 

“You probably fancy Justin Bieber, so why don’t we go with him so you can have something to wank over later, you fucking pansy.” Louis tries, even though his insult comes out shaky and unsure, Zayn doesn’t notice, immediately tearing his eyes away from the boy in front of him and to his laptop that he’s pulled on to his legs. “So sad you’re a fag, Zayn, you—“

 

“What is your problem, Louis?” Zayn says, feeling himself snap. “Do you really have to do this every fucking day? Does it not get old to you? It’s been two years since I’ve come out, two years; you’re the only one who still gives me shit about it. Everyone else has either accepted me or stopped talking to me, why can’t you just make a decision already?”

 

“I—“ Louis starts, but Zayn cuts him off.

 

“You know, I don’t even get why you have such a problem with me. I haven’t bothered you; before I came out we were friends, why did that have to change? Why do you even care who I like, why does it matter to you? Why are you so bloody angry with me? I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I like guys? Is that what you want to hear?” Zayn stares right at Louis as he speaks, making sure Louis gets every word he says. “Why, Louis, why? Why are you still hurting me?” Zayn falls into silence, and Louis just stares, not knowing how to put his feelings into words, not knowing how to say sorry, not knowing how to explain. Instead, Louis just leans over the space between the two boys and presses his lips against Zayn’s. Zayn makes a tiny sound of surprise before just sitting there as Louis’ lips move against Zayn’s unresponsive ones. Louis pulls away first.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“What the hell was that? You torment me, and then out of nowhere, you kiss me?”

 

“Zayn, I like you.” Louis says, his voice strong, his blue eyes locked on Zayn’s brown. “I like you a lot, more than a friend should. Unlike you, I can’t come out. I don’t know how to come out. I’m scared, so I took it out on you.” Louis says, and Zayn lets out a shaky breath.

 

“You like me?” It seems too real, too good to be true. Without another word shared between the two, Zayn leans forward and kisses Louis, slow, sweet, the kiss heating up on it’s own. Zayn sets his laptop aside and crawls over the tiny space, laying Louis down and crawling on top of the boy. Louis flips their bodies over, so Louis’ on top, the kiss never breaking as clothing begins to be removed, first Zayn’s shirt, then Louis’ hoodie, Louis’ shirt as Zayn’s tongue traces across Louis’ bottom lip, asking for permission, which Louis grants, opening his mouth, Zayn and Louis’ tongues battling for dominance. Louis’ fingertips trace down Zayn’s torso to unbutton Zayn’s jeans, yanking them down and off, leaving the younger boy beneath him in only his boxers. Zayn lets Louis’ win the battle of dominance, and Louis pulls back to take off his sweats before leaning over Zayn, one hand on either side of Zayn’s body. “In the drawer.” Zayn whispers, looking up at Louis as his head raises and he reaches forward, pulling open the drawer and taking out it’s contents, a bottle of lube and a few condoms. Louis smiles down at Zayn and sets what he needs by the boy’s head, closing the drawer when he’s done.

 

“Have you done this before?” Louis asks, hooking his fingers under the hem of Zayn’s boxers, tugging them down and off, letting Zayn do the same.

 

“What do you think?” Zayn replies, tossing Louis’ boxers to the side before lying back down. Louis opens the bottle of lube and squeezes some on his fingers before leaning back over Zayn’s body, pressing kisses to Zayn’s neck as he pushes his fingers inside the younger boy’s tight heat. Zayn shudders as Louis pushes in and out, a slow pace, letting Zayn adjust before adding a second, then a third, stretching Zayn out. “O-Oh god, please, fuck me,” Zayn moans, bucking his hips towards Louis’ fingers. Louis smiles and pulls his fingers out, tearing open a condom and rolling it on, squeezing more lube on his cock before lining himself up with Zayn’s entrance, locking eyes with the boy as if asking for permission. Zayn nods, and Louis plunges in with a shaky breath, only stopping once he’s fully seated inside, waiting for Zayn’s okay to move. Zayn nods again, and Louis begins thrusting, hard, deep into Zayn’s body.

 

Zayn groans, fisting the sheets and rutting his hips to meet Louis’ movements, his hips moving in circular motions, and Louis stops thrusting, instead watching Zayn work himself on his dick. “You’re so hot, baby, oh my god,” Louis breathes, starting up his rhythm again, this time going slow, slow enough to savor every moment, every feeling, every thought running through his mind. Fuck, he’s beautiful, I wish he was mine, and Look at his body, he’s perfect, listen to his voice, so wrecked, constant chants of Zayn, Zayn, Zayn.

 

Louis feels the familiar feeling of white heat coiling low in his gut, and it takes everything he has to not pound in the boy writhing beneath him, literally trembling while keeping the slow pace, “Harder, harder, fuck, harder!” Zayn begs, and Louis is more than happy to oblige, finally letting himself fuck Zayn until he’s a screaming mess, the sound of Zayn’s whimpers, moans, and shouts the only thing Louis can hear as he nears closer to his orgasm. “I’m gonna’ come, fuck me harder, baby, make me scream,” Zayn manages, wrapping his shaking legs around Louis’ hips, and Louis fucks Zayn mercilessly, relishing in the sound of Zayn’s yells, smiling down at the used boy when he finally comes over his own chest with a shout of Louis’ name. Louis continues to pound into Zayn until Zayn whimpers, and Louis pulls out, his hand wrapping around his cock immediately, pumping himself towards his release. “Come on me, yeah?”

 

Louis groans at Zayn’s words, loud, peeling off the condom and giving himself two more good strokes before he’s spilling himself over Zayn’s stomach, his own spunk mixing with the younger boy’s. “Good?” Louis asks, breathless, his body still shaking from the force of his orgasm.

 

“Mmm.” Zayn replies, his eyes slowly closing. “Drawer.” Louis opens the drawer and pulls out a washcloth, wiping up the aftermath of the past 30 minutes. Louis tosses the washcloth to the side and brings Zayn’s body close to his, picking him up and slowly walking him over to the bed, laying him down and crawling in next to him when he gets there.

 

“I’m sorry, Zayn.” Louis whispers after a moment, pulling Zayn’s covers over their naked bodies. Zayn turns to face Louis, his eyes still closed, and curls into Louis.

**Author's Note:**

> find [this](http://shipfiction.tumblr.com/post/34437975956/title-im-sick-of-your-shit-pairing-zouis-zayn) and [me](http://shipfiction.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


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